In Place of those Words
by Katsushika Kahori
Summary: ADDITIONAL SECOND PART TO "In Place of Words"  What if there was more to the meaning in that film then was grasped by the viewing nations? Perhaps a hidden desire targeted to one specific person?


**DISCLAIMER: I own everything. Yes. That's right. What's that? I've gone insane? … Good deduction. Yes, very good…  
>I own nothing… still. <strong>

_This is an additional second part to" In Place of Words"__**. You should read that one first. :D**__ I was given a wonderful suggestion and can't get the idea out of my head!_

While sitting in the living room holding a cup of tea, a thought slowly wiggled its way into Arthur's head. It had been only a day since the whole Captain America revelation and it was really a startling concept. Setting the tea cup down, he shook his head to clear it of the ridiculous idea. There was no way that it was even plausible.

Standing up to refill the cup he shook his head once more for good measure. How in the world had such an idea even crossed his mind? So preoccupied was he with the thought that he managed to trip and sent tea spilling across the kitchen floor.

"Shit." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Shit, shit, shit."

Just because the love interest had happened to be British meant nothing; surely.

He'd been over this, over and over and over. There was no way his old man brain was going down this road again. He wouldn't allow it. He stared at the tea slowly spreading across the linoleum. He'd managed so well these last few hundred years; now was no time to give up the façade. He grabbed a towel off the stove bar. All his efforts would be in vain. He got down on his knees to begin soaking up the brown liquid. No, he wasn't going there. Not again.

"Anything I can help you with mon cher?" a voice asked quietly behind the startled European nation. "You seem downtrodden."

"I am no such thing." Arthur replied frostily. "Now if you would be so kind as to turn the other way and mind your own damn business." He glanced back down at the breakfast served by the hotel and pushed the plate away with distaste.

"Such a hurtful reply!" France threw a hand over his head dramatically. "I was merely asking after your condition as a good friend and you have the gall to-"

He was cut off by Arthur's hand over his mouth.

"Not another word out of you, my _friend._" he growled, sticking the man with an evil glare. If he thought it was a good idea to tempt fate this morning, he was in for a rude awakening.

France plucked his hand away and smiled. "So you _are_ upset over something. It was simply a guess on my part as you _usually_ look sour." He laughed. "So what is it that has you so down this fine morning?"

Looking away, Arthur propped his chin on his wrists and heaved a sigh.

"I am, you will find, extremely patient." France murmured leaning closer.

'What the hell?' was the last thought to cross Arthur's mind before he spun in his chair to face the startled Frenchman.

"Francis… I have a question."

A surprised look crossed Francis's face at being addressed so familiarly but he made no comment.

"Ask away!" He replied smiling hugely.

"I need it to be taken with the utmost formality. You will _not _give me anything but your honest opinion or mislead me in any way."

If not for the steely look Arthur was throwing his way, Francis may have been tempted to do just that, but seeing the fire in those green eyes he quickly changed his mind.

"Of course Arthur." He agreed quietly.

"Yesterday at the meeting…"

"Yes, when we watched that gloriously _American_ movie." Francis prompted when it looked as though Arthur had no plans to continue.

"He said that the movie clearly illustrated how he felt..." Once again he trailed off.

Francis cocked his head to the side in confusion. "Yes, that is what he said. Why do you bring it up?"

"Do you… do-" Arthur pursed his lips about to give up the whole ridiculous conversation but something urged him on, probably that stupid side of him that had yet to allow the feelings and hope to crumple and dry up like old bell peppers in the sun.

Francis felt his brows knit together in confusion. Arthur had never been this awkward with his conversation before. Unless… this had something to do with America? Alfred, that dear, sweet, semi-retarded goof of a country could throw Arthur's composure to the dogs with a simple wink.

"Yes? What is it?" Francis asked, trying to get him to continue.

"Do you suppose… Erm, do you suppose that that sentiment applies to… to all aspects… What I mean to say is do you think that the-" here, he visibly swallowed, "- love interest… per say being…"

Francis needed no more information to connect two and two. The love interest had been _British._

"Is _that _what has you worried?" He laughed loudly, slapping a hand on the table. "My, my! And here I thought it was something serious!"

"Shut up!" Arthur muttered darkly. "I told you to take this seriously. It _is _serious and I will not stand for you mocking me!"

Francis would have been more frightened of the threat but for the ridiculous blush staining Arthur's normally pale cheeks.

Shaking his head, Francis continued to chuckle under his breath. How could one so powerful and worldly as Arthur Kirkland have missed the glances, worried looks, stuttering, and nervous quirks that pervaded Alfred's mannerisms whenever the older man was within earshot? Or maybe he had not missed them, but was too suspicious to believe in what he saw? That would explain this whole idea occurring to him in the first place; his subconscious egging him in the direction it knew to be right.

"Arthur, my dear Arthur." Francis draped an arm over his shoulders. "You have no idea what you have just said."

"I most certainly do know what I said." Arthur answered angrily. "What I _don't _know is why I said it to _you."_

"Because I am the clear choice! Besides you knew that I already knew about your little secret no? Why spread it unnecessarily to the rest of the nations?" He smirked.

Arthur was speechless. Yes, in the back of his mind he supposed he knew that Francis was right. He _had _known that Francis knew how he felt; and yes, that _was _how he felt. Why deny it now? But to have it said so plainly was rage inducing. And as was normal for Arthur he began to spew all sorts of idle, stupid filth.

"Yes! And now you know for sure! Spread it around to everyone for all I care! It's my own damn fault anyway. Always watching and waiting for a glance or whatever the hell it is I want. Tell everyone! Tell it to that twat as well! See if I give a damn!"

"A damn about what?" A third voice chimed in suddenly.

Arthur froze.

Francis chuckled again, turning to stare up at the curious American.

"Why, England and I were just having the most interesting conversation about your movie America!" Standing up, he ushered America into his previously occupied chair. "You may take my place as I have business that must be attended to." And with that he took off in the opposite direction laughing joyously none too quietly.

"So you liked it that much huh?" Alfred asked enthusiastically staring at the horrified man in front of him.

The first response that came to mind obviously was something insulting along the lines of 'Of course I didn't you bloody idiot! Learn to read the atmosphere; there was no way we were talking about a movie!' but for once in his life Arthur decided to try taking the calm, rational road less traveled.

"It was very good."

There was a small silence as Alfred waited for more of a response and when he got none he intervened for the conversations sake.

"So have you seen the other Marvel movies?"

Arthur gritted his teeth. This was _not _what he had wanted the morning to be like. He had wanted a quiet moment, preferably an hour at least, to think about the newest predicament he had found himself in. That was all he asked for. Was that so much? He had had years to reflect on his feelings and learn to squish them away for meetings; to hide them completely on good days. But once again his bell pepper hope had latched onto something minimal that probably didn't even insinuate what he hoped it did. Captain America was a comic invented by another patriotic American. It didn't mean anything and he certainly wasn't _actually _Alfred. Just because it was a perfect representation of how Alfred viewed world politics and wars didn't mean that every little thing was the same. Just because Captain America's love interest was British didn't mean that Alfred… he blushed furiously at the turn his thoughts had taken.

"What is it Arthur?" Alfred asked; a hint of a laugh in his voice.

And what a laugh it was. Not the usual; no, this one was deep with many layers to it. It would take years to accurately decipher the true meaning behind such a laugh. But Arthur didn't have years and so could not fully appreciate the eager undertone.

"It's nothing. And no, I haven't actually. Though I do know of your bloody company. Why not pick one hero and stick with them?"

"Where's the fun in that?" Alfred countered excitedly. "The more variety there is the more people will be interested! That way there's a hero for everyone!"

Arthur flinched; if only Alfred knew what he was saying. If only he knew the face he made when he did, how his eyes were sparkling in the previously aggravating morning sun, his hair swaying lightly in the small breeze from the door that had just been opened.

"A hero for everyone huh?" He muttered bitterly and turned back towards his forgotten breakfast.

Alfred leaned forward a bit, curiously.

"That's a nice thought." Arthur continued, poking at the cold eggs. "Everyone deserves someone."

"Did you notice the diversity in that movie?" Alfred asked happily. "It even had Italy in it! I think Italy was probably really surprised! Maybe he felt proud too? Or maybe just sad…?" He trailed off staring into the distance.

Arthur tuned him out at this. It was bound to just be further stupidity. What he really needed was to distract himself from his current mindset. After the revolution he had finally noticed that he was thinking of Alfred in a strange way; though he couldn't pinpoint exactly when his thoughts had taken a turn for a more romantic love than that of a brother. The revolution though painful didn't really bother him as much as people seemed to anticipate but it did have its share of bad feelings. It was, as far as he could tell, the feeling humans had when rejected by someone they loved but still having the opportunity of being friends. It was bearable. But then Alfred had distanced himself even farther as the years went by and it was the same as that dear one moving away. The revolution had separated him permanently from someone he truly cared for.

He sighed once more, forgetting the babbling nation beside him.

"What's wrong?" Alfred muttered staring intently at the top of Arthur's head.

"I said it's nothun' yah idiuht." In his irritation his accent accentuated itself and Alfred started to chuckle. "Whut?" He grouched.

"Nothing, just your accent." Alfred put a hand over his mouth, still laughing. "It's great."

Had his eyes not been shut in mirth he might have noticed the vague disappointment flash across Arthur's face. When said in such a joking manner it seemed like something to dislike and in his current pessimistic slump Arthur couldn't help but feel that an accent was anything _but _great. Besides, didn't Alfred realize that he himself had an American accent?

"You realize you have an accent too, don't you you great oaf?"

Alfred looked up. "What? I do?"

"Of course you twit. An American accent." Arthur rolled his eyes; how thick could you get?

"That's even _greater_!" Alfred proclaimed bouncing in his chair a bit. "Ah, but I bet our accents don't sound near as cool as British accents!" He turned his wide, blue eyes on Arthur as he said this.

Not on your damn life. "It's 'don't sound nearly as cool' idiot."

"Well whatever! Yours is still better." He laughed and grabbed a fork, sticking it into Arthur's long-gone-cold breakfast. "You should eat. It's bad to skip breakfast you know." He smiled cheekily. "Besides," he added, going back to the previous topic, "that chick in the movie yesterday, now _she _was sexy."

Arthur choked on his drink. Was this some kind of punishment? Bring up the reason for his suffering and then why not twist the knife and mention the attractiveness of said problem?

"You think so?" He sniffed.

"Hell yeah, I do!" Alfred spooned a bite of eggs into his mouth and swallowed quickly. "Her face was pretty average and whatnot but-"

Arthur couldn't stop himself. "You shouldn't judge a lady on her face! Personality and character! That's what matters…" He huffed and took another angry swig of tea. That had settled it in his mind. How in the hell could he have ever even_ entertained _the idea that that was anything more than a coincidence? Unfortunately now he also had to track down Francis and throttle him into silence about his temporary lapse of sanity and dignity.

"Yeah but-"

"Enough. I don't want to hear anymore on the matter."

"But Arthur-"

"Shush." He clapped a hand rather roughly across the American's mouth. He flinched slightly though when he heard the telltale slap that meant he'd put more force behind it than he'd meant to. He removed it, grimacing apologetically. "Sorry Alfred, I-"

"Now you listen here! I was trying to say something important!" Alfred said quickly before Arthur had a chance to shush him again. "That movie yesterday… Well, ok so I was actually really nervous about showing it." He glared at the table for a moment, twirling his fingers. "But you made me feel so much better afterwards!" He grinned. "So, thanks!"

"No problem." Arthur answered weakly. Life was really too cruel sometimes.

"But that's not all!" Alfred stopped short, waiting for a response.

Arthur sighed deeply, gripping his hands together. "What else is there?"

"Well, didn't you get what I was trying to say?"

"Of course I did Alfred, you know that." He gave him a look. "You were trying to show us how you feel. And I think finally we all got the message clear as day." He smiled and then continued, "Although if I have to say it, I had an idea from the beginning." He chuckled. "This just really helped to clarify the idea." When he didn't get an answer he opened his eyes and glanced up into the very shocked face of Alfred. "What is it?"

"Really?" Alfred leaned forward until they were only inches apart.

"Really _what_?" Arthur asked in a panic.

"You really thought that?" Alfred seemed desperate and his eyes were wide.

"Yes, really." He reached up and placed his hands on Alfred's shoulders, gently shoving him back a bit. "I've known all along. Why do you think I've stuck with you for so long through so much? Because I like the beatings?" He laughed humorlessly.

Alfred frowned, his gaze lowering to the floor. "I'm sorry about that."

Arthur blinked. Sorry about what? "Oh, well… no worries." He said awkwardly.

"So did you understand the part I was trying to say to _you_ then?" Alfred asked looking back up.

"To… me?" Arthur frowned. "There were two messages?"

"Well obviously, seeing as you already knew the first one!" Alfred grinned leaning forward again.

"I can't see as to how there were _two_ messages buried in that convoluted plotline of yours…" He muttered defensively.

Alfred laughed. "There totally was! Ok, I'll just tell you then!" He looked around for a moment and then back to Arthur. "That lead lady? The British one? She was one of my favorite parts!" He stared expectantly at Arthur. "Do you know why?"

Arthur bit his lip; really, what had he done to deserve this? "I couldn't imagine." He replied blandly.

"Her accent!" Alfred sang happily.

Fighting the urge to slam his head against the table Arthur managed to ask why.

"Cause like I said before! Her face was pretty average and all but the way she talked was the best! There's a big difference in accents just from England, not to mention from Great Britain or the United Kingdom or whatever you wanna call the whole place. I've noticed them recently. But the way she said everything was the same as you!" He smiled warmly.

"Uh…" Arthur squinted at him, leaning a little farther forward. Had he been drinking already?

"Well, the same as when you're sober." Alfred snorted. "You're incomprehensible drunk. Almost, dare I say it, Irish?" He grinned wickedly.

"She sounded like me?"

"Mm-hmm." Another smile.

"And what exactly am I supposed to bloody glean from that stupid idea?"

Alfred pulled a face and stared at him for a few minutes. "Seriously? It's not that hard to figure out!"

Arthur took a deep breath, raising his finger, preparing to launch into a giant lecture when suddenly Alfred grabbed his shoulders;

"Let me save us some time!" and kissed him.

Pulling away in shock Arthur stared at him, mouth hanging open. "What are you doing?" He managed to choke out.

"Trying to get my dang point across." Alfred muttered stubbornly, blinking. "Do you get it now?"

"No."

Alfred blinked again, the look on his face absolutely priceless. "Arthur… you're pulling my leg ain't cha?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Oh, well…" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Look what I'm trying to say is…" He stared at him intently for a moment. "You seriously don't understand?"

"Wish I could say I did."

"Unbelievable…" He said darkly, running a hand through his hair. "I'm saying that-"

"Are you trying to tell me that you have a fondness for British accents?" Arthur paused, thinking. "Or well I guess I should say English, seeing as that's what-"

He was cut off by a hand over his mouth. How reminiscent. Seemed like just this morning, oh wait. It had been. He was so confused that he found himself unable to even track his thoughts; they were all over the place and, if he did say so himself, completely irrelevant to the current situation.

"Arthur. You're babbling." Alfred said, his eyebrow twitching. "I can take a hint, you don't have to make it all awkward as all hell for me. If you don't like it then just say so."

What was it he didn't like?

"Anyway Arthur, sorry I- sorry. But even though you've pretty much crushed my hopes, thanks for the other day still. It did mean a lot to me." He smiled and got up slowly. Turning, he began to weave his way through the tables to the door to the foyer.

Almost to the door, he was reaching for the handle, turning it-

"WAIT." Arthur jumped up with his arm outstretched, his chair falling over behind him.

Alfred turned, a pained expression on his face.

"Are you telling me it's not just the accent?" Arthur asked. Dear God, how he hoped this was what that idiot had been trying to say. It seemed far too convenient and wonderful but when you were either granted a miracle or insanity why not enjoy whichever it was?

"Right…" Alfred answered slowly, staring around at the room full of humans. (And Francis behind the potted plant but no need to mention that…) He leaned back and quickly disappeared around the door frame, hoping desperately Arthur would follow him. Was he lucky enough to think that it had truly just been confusion that kept the grumpy old man from responding properly?

Arthur stared at the empty doorway. Was he supposed to follow? Or had he just made the biggest fool out of himself to ever walk to Earth?

"Just go. You are a fool to not see the truth." A disgruntled, French accented voice muttered behind him.

Arthur started and blinked. The small movement was all he needed and he was off. Be damned if he was wrong!

Francis glared at the door through which Arthur had just run. Was he the only one with any sense on this planet? How could something so blatantly obvious not be noticed by the two main parties involved? Sighing he turned to the counter to pick up Arthurs check. He would be paying him back for this kindness. The frown slid into a grin and he began whistling to himself as he dug through his wallet for a tip.

Somewhere in the back of the restaurant, whilst staring at the back of the French nation, a small, forgotten country plotted his hit-or-miss flirting plan.

"Arthur!" Alfred grabbed him by the arms and swung him to a stop outside the door. "What do you really think?" He was talking loudly, his eyes a little desperate.

"I _think _that I have no idea what you were trying to say!" Arthur answered irritatedly. So what if he made this as difficult as possible? Inwardly he frowned; he knew that wasn't how he really viewed the situation but he was so scared. He just desperately wished to not get his hopes up and subsequently crushed again. Anything but that.

"Jeez!" Alfred exclaimed. "Seriously? Ok ok, fine. I was trying to tell you that…" He glanced down to the left and twiddled the fingers on his left hand a moment before looking back up. "I was trying to tell you that I like you. I like your accent and how grumpy you are. I like when you yell and tell me what to do. I like when you set the stove on fire trying to cook breakfast for me. I like the bedtime stories I still remember that you would read me and I like your weird imaginary friends. I like _you._"

Arthur stared at him in confusion. He'd definitely had too much to drink. Had he had anything to drink? No, it didn't matter; he was clearly hallucinating. That had been much too easy.

"Arthur?" The tone was saturated with worry and regret. "I didn't really mean-"

Arthur felt his heart squeeze in fear, no don't take it back now!

"-what I said about your cooking. I know you don't always set the stove on fire."

Arthur could have laughed.

"You wonderful, wonderful idiot!" He yelled and Alfred backed away a few steps. "That's what you apologize for!"

"What should I be apologizing for?" Alfred asked, bewildered.

"For waiting for years." Arthur murmured.

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Really it's nothing. So… you like me?" He still wasn't sure but that sadistic side of him was taking over and he wanted to mess with Alfred. This wasn't something he should be joking about and he knew it, but damn it. _Damn it, why was he doing this? _No, he knew why. He was pissed. How dare Alfred say that with that worried, innocent look on his face? How dare he mumble those simple words without the meaning Arthur wanted, _needed_, him to put into them? For Alfred this was a simple crush, something to keep him up at night and get his heart hammering. He wanted attention; that's all this was and Arthur knew it and resented it.

Unable to answer out of embarrassment, Alfred bowed his head and nodded shortly. He opened his mouth and closed it again a couple times before he started to clench his hands. Suddenly Arthur reached forward and brought his hands to either sides of Alfred's face, the angry hurt feeling washing away in place of a warm love.

"Hey." He waited until Alfred looked up to meet his eyes. "I like you too." He gave a small smile.

Alfred's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Arthur chuckled and moved his hands to the back of Alfred's neck.

"Uh, Arthur…" Alfred trailed off and Arthur felt the smile slip off his face. "I meant that… in a… I think I meant that in a different way than you do so…" He lowered his gaze and bit his lip. "Maybe…"

"How did you mean it, Alfred?" Arthur tried to mask the hard edge to his voice but it slipped through in his despair.

Alfred frowned guiltily. "I- I- Arthur… promise."

"Promise what?" He asked flatly.

"Promise you won't be mad. Promise to not stop talking to me. Promise…"

Arthur frowned, that didn't sound like something the "friend" would say. Why in the world would he think Arthur would be upset that he was his friend? Looking up he realized Alfred was staring at him worriedly.

"All right." Arthur nodded solemnly. "I promise."

"I don't know how to explain… I mean I do, but it's embarrassing." He bit his lip once more, chewing it to the point Arthur worried he might bite right through it.

Arthur sighed sadly, and taking a deep breath, made a decision. "Alfred," he murmured softly. "Just do whatever you need to do to tell me alright?" He looked up and smiled reassuringly.

Alfred shuddered momentarily, a pained expression in his eyes. "You may not understand it again…" he said slowly before suddenly lunging forward and pressing his lips gently to Arthur's again. After a moment he leaned back and Arthur was horrified to see a tear slide down his cheek; Alfred reached up and swatted it away impatiently. "I won't lie to you. I'm gonna be totally honest and straight forward because you deserve it. I love you Arthur. Like, I _love _you. As more than a friend, brother, or even a father. It's not a platonic kind of love. I want- uh…" Alfred stopped short, blushing slightly.

"So that_ is_ what you meant." Arthur mused staring at Alfred's bottom lip in a contemplative way. He was trying to contain the feeling of joy that was blooming in his chest. The bell peppers were finally opening their leaves to the sun. How long had he dreamed that this moment would come?

"I'm sorry I kissed you again. I won't ever again though. Promise." Alfred interrupted his thoughts worriedly. "I just… I guess I just wanted to one last time. Hell, I've wanted to since the 1800's!" He laughed, not as boisterously as usual but he was recovering. "I guess I didn't like the thought of never getting to again…" His tone dropped, melancholy.

"And why the bloody hell would you not be kissing me again?" Arthur asked distractedly, glaring up at the confused visage of his former colony. "Don't people in your ruddy country snog each other when they're in love?"

Once again, Alfred's jaw fell open and he stared speechlessly at Arthur. Arthur froze, realizing what had just slipped from his mouth.

"When they're _in love?_" Alfred choked out.

Arthur nodded, and throwing caution to the winds, grinned hugely. "Yes, dear. When they're in love." He repeated. "Alfred." Said quietly. "That is what you meant isn't it?" Tightening his arms around Alfred's neck he brought himself closer, feeling the buttons of his vest snag briefly on the zipper of Alfred's bomber jacket.

Alfred seemed to ditch the decision to answer in favor of trying to remember how to breathe.

Arthur paused, once again thinking. Did Alfred know what he was saying? Could it really be the same? Was he lucky enough to have earned the love of someone so precious to him? He blinked and the train of thought was abandoned with the parting wisp, "why question something so beautiful?" and he leaned even farther into Alfred, backing him up against the wall.

"Arthur!" Alfred gasped. "What are you doing? Don't you get what I'm saying?"

"I know exactly what you're saying." Arthur whispered, staring closely at Alfred's flushed face.

"Please don't do this. Arthur, I was serious! Don't just play around."

He sounded close to tears but Arthur decided the best way to prove how serious he w_as_ taking it was to-

"Arthur, for God's sake I want to _fuck _you!" Alfred yelled desperately, shoving Arthur away. His eyes widened after a moment and he slapped a hand over his mouth.

Silence filled the hall for no more than a minute before Arthur doubled over in laughter. So he _did _mean it whole-heartedly.

"Wha-wha-what?" Alfred stuttered indignantly.

"I'm sorry Alfred." Arthur gasped between laughs. "I've been waiting to hear that for centuries!" He braced his hands on his knees, bent over trying to contain the stray giggles. Standing up, he wiped a tear from his eye and grinned. "I can assure you that I'm taking you one hundred percent serious." He took a step forward, trying to smile reassuringly and held out a hand. "Trust me."

Alfred stared at his hand like it was a third head.

"Arthur… " He shook his head, eyes wide.

"Shush." Arthur took another step closer. "It's all right, really. If you're worried about you're phrasing just now," he chuckled, "I've heard much worse at sea." He grinned. "Actually, being perfectly honest, I kind of liked hearing it from you."

If at any moment Alfred were to drop dead it probably would have been now, but miraculously he managed to remain standing.

"I'm well aware, _now_," a rue smile, "that you mean your love in a sexual way. And I'm pleased to inform you that I second the feelings." Finally the gravity of what he was saying was catching up and he began to feel his face grow hot. "I mean, well that's precisely what I mean but- I- I-" He stammered to a stop and glared down at his feet.

Alfred took four steps forward and placed his hands on Arthur's shoulders. Arthur glanced up and noticed the gigantic smile stretched across the other's lips. Tilting his head to the side he tentatively twitched his own lips up in response.

"Gee, Arthur, we're not so smart are we?" Alfred joked. "How long have we been dancing around this now?" His smile widened even further until the corners of his eyes crinkled.

"Well, you seem to be your normal confident self again." Arthur muttered darkly, hating his own blush, still raging at full power across his cheeks. "But I do have one worry."

"What's that?" Alfred suddenly sounded strangled, his hands slipping off Arthur's shoulders.

"Well… I've had hundreds of years to… discover how I feel. I've been around for tens of centuries. I've been with people." He frowned, suddenly wishing he could say otherwise, but a quick glance at Alfred revealed the other nation to be nonplussed with this admission. "I'm worried that _you _don't know what you want. You're so young, Alfred." The frown grew more pronounced as he stared into Alfred's face. "You're so… _young, _what if after a while you change your mind? What if you decide you really don't like me that much or at all?" He sighed morosely.

"Of course I'm young!" Alfred said, spreading his hands wide. "You raised me." His eyes twinkled mischievously. " Listen. I know. Really." He grabbed Arthur's chin and raised his face. "I've known you all my life. I _know _you. Don't you think I know how I feel about you?" He laughed warmly. "If I'd just met you it might be questionable but come on! I know your favorite jelly brand! I lived with you for decades and decades. I've had plenty of time to get used to your weird quirks and mull over what I really felt."

Arthur stared him down for a moment, debating. He would be lying to say he wasn't terrified of saying yes and Alfred changing his mind later on.

"Come on." Alfred urged and leaned down so his head was resting on Arthur's shoulder. "Cause now I know it's not just me. I can't back out now! It took a lot of courage too; I'd hate to see it wasted. I was so nervous it felt like my guts were about to wiggle their way out of my stomach." He whispered. "At first when I told you I thought for sure you thought I meant as a friend." He laughed breathlessly, in relief.

"And I thought you meant that you had a _crush_ on me." Arthur scoffed, raising a hand to run it lightly through the dark blonde hair over his shoulder.

"Is that why you were so upset? Cause you love me so much more than that?" Alfred raised his head his eyes shining miraculously brightly and hopefully. They were breathtaking. "Cause I know I sure love you more than a little crush. The biggest crush in the world wouldn't even hurt compared to how I feel." He smiled joyously.

Arthur shivered and cursed Alfred to hell for managing to be so seductive and charming and innocent all at once, effectively reducing him to a moldable pile of mush.

It just wasn't fair.

Alfred ran a hand down his shoulder and wrapped his fingers around Arthur's own tense ones.

Alfred was back to being the "cool one", the "one in charge".

He pulled himself and Arthur gently away from the wall.

It wasn't right. He'd just been on a roll!

When Arthur didn't move immediately Alfred leaned in and kissed his cheek quickly.

Well, he'd managed to say what he wanted, and had successfully been the _second _one to blush and stutter. He supposed that would have to suffice for the day.

Grinning, he allowed Alfred to pull him back towards the bar where a new, hot breakfast was sure to be waiting.

_**~Also HOLY CRAP this got long. But I just didn't want to (or know where to) stop. ^^~**_


End file.
